


Catch me when I fall

by myrish_lace



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Godswood, Godswood Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Jon Snow is King in the North, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Kissing, One Shot, Outdoor Sex, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 23:44:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14151981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: Jon Snow tries to find peace in the godswood after he learns the truth about his parents. Sansa comes to comfort him, and to pursue a goal of her own. Jon’s not prepared for her first kiss, but soon they’re making love under the heart tree.





	Catch me when I fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wightjon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wightjon/gifts), [junsnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/junsnow/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Basically I wanted to write a smut fic where Sansa is thirsty af once she learns about Jon’s parentage and goes after Jon with her eyes on the prize. And then it got super fluffy because, well, it’s me!
> 
> Gifted to the lovely people who made me laugh while writing this fic!

Sansa found Jon with his head in his hands. The gentle rustling of the leaves was the only sound that permeated the sacred place. The godswood usually filled him with a sense of deep peace. He’d had the vain hope he might feel that peace again, even after Sam and Bran’s awful, ugly secret. Even after he knew he was no Stark.

“Jon, please, talk to me.” Sansa sat down next to him at the edge of the deep pool. Jon wanted to shout at her to run away. He wanted to lay his head on her chest and let her rock him to sleep. But this shame was all his own.

“Sansa…” Her blue eyes pierced him and the familiar stirring of his blood brought a flush to his cheeks. He wanted her, but was that surprising, given his Targaryen blood? He turned away. He loved her, deeply, and she deserved so much more than the sick advances of a-  

“Jon, stop. Stop doing this to yourself.” Sansa took his hand.

“Sansa, don’t, it’s not worth it, I’m not worth it, I-”

Sansa launched herself at him, kissing him hard, clutching at the fur of his collar. Her soft lips were on his as she tugged him toward her. He was falling, falling fast, and if he didn’t break the kiss he might lay her down on the godswood floor and…

“Wait, wait.” He pulled back slightly, enough that he could see her darkened eyes and red lips. Gods, but she was beautiful. He ached to kiss her again, but he was lost as to why she’d started. “What…”

Sansa searched his face. “Is it just me then? It's not…not the same for you? I thought…after I heard the news I ran to find you…” Her face fell. “I’m sorry, Jon.”

She _wanted_ him. After all the nights he’d spent dreaming of her. After all the days he’d pushed his feelings aside when she sat next to him in the great hall or when she slipped her hand in his as he walked her back to her chambers.

He slipped his hand in hers now. “No, it’s not just you, it’s not…” He leaned and captured her lips again, groaning when she licked at the seam of his lips. He opened his mouth instantly, deepening the kiss, pulling her closer. She sighed and tangled her hands in his hair. She climbed into his lap, breaking the kiss to settle into the cradle of his hips.

She braced a hand against his chest, then faltered. “Do you…do you want me like this, Jon?” She bit her lip, and he realized she had no idea what was happening in his head, what a tangled mess of desire he was.

“Sansa,  _yes_ -” He surged up to meet her, kissing her again as he pulled her into his lap.

Sansa nipped at his jaw, and he ran his hands down her sides, over the swell of her hips. Later, he’d need to deal with it all - his parents, his heritage, the North - but now Sansa was lighting a fire inside him, whispering “I need you” as she pushed him onto the soft, snow-covered ground.

The godswood seemed to welcome them as he laid back. Sansa settled her skirts over his lap. He was ready to offer her his cloak to ward off the cold, but she seemed to feel the same fire he did. She was eager, moaning when he cupped her breasts, shaking out her braid so that he could run his gloved hands through her hair.

“I wish I could feel you,” he murmured.  He trailed kisses down her neck, tasting her everywhere he could, even though they were still bundled in furs. “Every inch of you, Sansa, I want to kiss you everywhere-”

She rocked against him, her hips stuttering against his thigh. She moaned when he slid a hand under her heavy skirts, touching her through her smallclothes.

"I love you,” she said, cupping his cheek. “Like…like a lover does.”

Jon shuddered as her words etched themselves into his heart. Words he’d imagined, wished for, offered freely.

“I love you, too, Sansa, so much, you’ve no idea…”

She smiled, resting her forehead on his. “Be with me then.” She reached for him, skimming over the bulge in his breeches. He’d been hard since that first frenzied kiss, and his cock twitched as she stroked him.

“Are you sure?” He nuzzled behind her ear. She was soft and warm and he could smell the sweet rosewater scent of her hair. But he would not, would not, would not let her do something she regretted, no matter how hot his blood was, how he ached to bury himself inside her.

Sansa whined as she fumbled with his laces. “Please, Jon, please, I-”

He didn’t want her to beg, not ever. “I’ve got you, love, I’ve got you.” He took her hand and finished unlacing his breeches. He’d expected to feel a chill, but it was warm underneath the layers of her skirts. He grew bold enough to tug at her smallclothes and she joined him, tearing them away. Before he could reach up to steady her she sank down onto him slowly.

She was hot and tight and wet as she started to move, rolling her hips. He groaned and thrust up to meet her and gods, _this_ was what he’d needed, her warmth and the sweet, soft noises she made. She found a rhythm and began to ride him, her red hair spilling over the fur of her cloak as Jon thrust in time with her, more urgently now.

Jon hissed as she fluttered around him, trying to hold back. “Sansa, I’m going to-”

She put a finger to his lips. “I want you to,” she said shyly. “Please, once, I’ll drink moon tea if you want but-”

Jon sat up, keeping her close, slowing their pace. He swallowed past the lump in his throat as he looked into her wide blue eyes. “I don’t want to shame you, Sansa. I don’t want to get a bastard on you.” He thrust into her slowly, keeping his eyes locked on to hers.

She whimpered. “Then - _oh_ \- then marry me, Jon.” She picked up her pace again and he buried his face in her neck.

They should be in her chambers, somewhere he could take his time. He should be mapping the curves of her body, not moving hot and desperate with her as she chased her release. But the words poured out of him, because it he married her he could protect her, keep her safe. He could make her his, as he was hers. “Marry me, sweet girl, gods, _yes,_ marry me, be my wife, my lady, my queen-”

Sansa cried out as she came, loud enough to startle a bird from the branches of the heart tree. She clung tight to Jon as he pulsed inside of her, gasping for breath.

They stayed that way, joined together, panting as they came back to themselves. Sansa toyed with Jon’s curls, tucking them behind his ear. He smiled, loving the feel of her in his arms. Loving her.

“Jon, was it…was it too much?” She asked. “I won’t hold you to what you said, I know I ran for you, threw myself at you-”

“Sansa…” He helped her switch positions, so that she could curl up with him. He stroked her hair, and waited until he could speak without his voice cracking.  "I don’t know what this all means - my parents, who I am, what I’ve become - but I know I love you.“ He kissed her forehead. "I’ve known since the first day you came back to me. You threw yourself into my arms then too, remember?”

Sansa looked up at him and smiled. “I remember. It’s…it’s why I thought you might catch me again, this time.”

He nudged her cheek with his nose. “Always, my love. Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this showed up in your notifications twice - I had some weird formatting issues and had to delete and re-post!


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